The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.
Austen should be read in the winter, on dark evenings with warm lights on. Sitting in an armchair, with the glow from the lamp not so different from the light of a candle.
Good books and good conversation: It turns out we are quite Georgian in our evening occupations.
I’ve been quiet for a few days because it has been my birthday! I went on a trip to the south coast which was brilliant. In true bookish celebratory style I thought I’d post some pictures of the books I got for my birthday:
Lovely Flipback editions:
And it isn’t technically a book but I also got a Penguin Canvas of A Room of One’s Own, which is going up on a wall yet to be decided.
Time has been flying by this month and I’ve ended up posting this a lot later than I thought I would have. This post is a bit of a mash up of my reading over the last two weeks before Christmas – Christmas posts to follow shortly!
After my bout of complaining about Sense and Sensibility I did manage to complete Emma. I even enjoyed it. It was the first time I had read it, and found its silliness somewhat light relief after ploughing through Sense and Sensibility. I loved the character of Emma’s father; his gruel in the evening, panic at dining in company, wariness of chills, robbers, colds, overexertion, wet feet, mist, marriages… As for Emma herself, I thought she was pretty lucky that everyone was so tolerant and adoring of her. I’m not sure she’d get the same reaction today – although Cher was pretty believable in Clueless. I wonder if Austen felt a little bit of glee in sending up women like Emma (I hope so!). I suppose I read Austen for the marriages not the money, although I did miss having a heroine I truly wanted the best for.
I called it a day on Advent with Austen after that, but I was pleased with what I managed. I read Death Comes to Pemberley, Jane’s Fame, Sense and Sensibility and Emma. My conclusions are: I admire Austen for the legacy she has left and I have no desire to ever read an Austen spin off. At long last I have read all of Austen’s major novels and my order of preference is:
The Robber Bride didn’t hook me in quite the same way: it wasn’t instant love like Cat’s Eye but a growing interest in the characters. Zenia is a fantastic literary villain – after a few chapters I couldn’t believe how much I disliked her! I can’t recommend Margaret Atwood’s books enough, because I haven’t read books by many other authors with such a fantastic imagination.
Advent with Austen has had the very unfortunate (and unexpected) outcome of making me unable to read any more. Before I started this, I had grown up appreciating Austen – ever since my Mum and I watched the BBC Pride and Prejudice adaptation. 
I was eight and had found the pinnacle of romance. We visited the stately homes, talked about the merits of and empire line and I read the book.
So far, so good. At University I had to study Mansfield Park. Despite this being Jane’s favourite I couldn’t get into it, but put that down to (a) studying it, and (b) that Mansfield Park and the heroine differs to her other novels. So even though I was never taken with Mansfield Park I still considered myself an Austen fan. A few years later I read Northanger Abbey and fell in love. Not only that, but it introduced me to a whole genre of writing that I’m still enjoying discovering. Quite recently I added Persuasion to my list, and carried on appreciating Austen.
The first book I read for Advent with Austen was Jane’s Fame by Claire Harman. I really enjoyed this book and it whet my appetite for exploring more of Austen’s writing. The best part of Jane’s Fame is how Harman captures the reception of Austen’s work through each century after publication. I also found out which authors Austen enjoyed – Samuel Richardson for one, an author I can’t wait to try, and who I cannot mention without a reference to o’s review of Clarissa (probably my favourite ever book blog review).
My overall feeling reading Jane’s Fame was guilt for not having read the major novels, let alone any of the short/ unfinished stuff. So here was my opportunity, and Sense and Sensibility was dusted off. As you may have read – I didn’t like it! But other people do! It is some people’s favourite Austen novel! Alas, even with a weeks hindsight, I still don’t see it – and everyone else’s reviews just leave me confused.
Perhaps against my better judgement I decided that finishing the big six would make me feel better so I went straight onto Emma. It has been a week, I’m barely half way through, I have 29 chapters to go and I seem to have lost all enthusiasm for reading. I’m bored. I’m bored with Austen. How has it all gone so wrong? I really and truly love three of her books. Why is she ruining this for me? Maybe this is a lesson in not just liking classics for the sake of their canonical value. I suppose its very unlikely that I’m going to love every classic I read. But the status of books as ‘classics’ heightens their worth for me – they have stood the test of time and are part of history. They shape writing today and in the case of Austen, they shape popular culture.
I’ll finish Emma, but it won’t be the achievement I thought it would be before I started. I can’t be alone in this: Are there any classic authors or novels you felt sure you would love but didn’t?
Oh no! A Jane Austen I didn’t enjoy! How can this be?!
I wouldn’t go so far as to say I didn’t like it at all, but I am very aware that if this wasn’t an Austen I would probably be more scathing. Sense and Sensibility was first written around 1795 but wasn’t published until 1811, and from what I can remember, Austen worried that it was out of date by the time it appeared in print. Could this have something to do with my dislike? My love of classics makes this unlikely… But there must be something:
There are a couple of saving graces:
I haven’t seen the Emma Thompson adaptation but I’m told it fills in a lot of gaps. I’d watch it to see if it changed my opinion at all.
My latest Austen rankings go:
Northanger Abbey
Persuasion
Pride and Prejudice
Sense and Sensibility
Mansfield Park
Sweeping Sense and Sensibility aside and putting it down to experience, I am moving onto Emma. The conquering of Austen is nigh.
I’ve started reading Sense and Sensibility for the first time and it wasn’t until chapter ten that I suddenly thought… Sensibility… What is it? Austen’s titles are so recognisable that I never thought about the words she chose for them. A little bit of afternoon research and I feel better! Sensibility isn’t a word we use now, but it was quite the concern of the eighteenth century.
Sensibility began as a scientific concept quickly adopted by philosophers. It is based on people’s perception of and response to events. It seems to be an emotional and intellectual concern – people with sensibility often showed signs of extreme distress, tenderness and ‘fine feeling’. This popular idea inspired writers who turned it into a literary movement: the sentimental novel. For example the narrator of The Sorrows of Young Werther demonstrated a very exaggerated response to unrequited love which led to young readers following his unwise example *spoiler removed, sorry Jillian!*.
The sentimental novel seems quite similar to gothic novels: I’m particularly thinking of Ann Radcliffe’s heroines! They faint at a moments notice, love passionately and unwaveringly, and weep at the beauty of mountains. There are a couple of other authors who wrote novels about sensibility that were admired by Jane Austen, for example Samuel Richardson and Frances Burney. Towards the end of the eighteenth century the sentimental novel was no longer popular; perhaps sensibiity had become cheapened; the activities involved in being ‘sensitive’ became more associated with illness. Sense and Sensibility was a latecomer to the genre, and satirises the sentimental novel by contrasting sensibility with actual sense and reason: Elinor Dashwood is sensible and considering, whilst Marianne Dashwood is passionate:
Elinor has not my feelings, and therefore she may overlook it, and be happy with him. But it would have broke my heart had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility.
I’m quite good at avoiding ever finding out the plot of classic stories if I’m likely to ever read them, so I have never seen an adaptation of Sense and Sensibility or let anyone tell me anything about the plot, so I’m curious to discover – reason or emotion – which will prevail?
And so, Advent with Austen continues. I finished Claire Harman’s Jane’s Fame last night but I think I will wait until the end of my Austen adventures to review it.
Death Comes to Pemberley by P. D. James
To me, this book shall forever raise the question ‘But what happened to Elizabeth?’ in wailing, disappointed tones.
First things first, this was the first book by P. D. James I’ve read, and I would like to read more of her detective stores. She is quite analytical and matter of fact with her criminal details, like Agatha Christie but with more characterisation. From reading Death at Pemberley, James’ love and care for Austen’s characters is obvious. As an introduction to the book she writes:
No doubt (Austen) would have replied to my apology by saying that, had she wished to dwell on such odious subjects, she would have written the story herself, and done it better.
I wouldn’t ever call Austen melodramatic, but she was good at (particularly in Pride and Prejudice) writing the hysterical characters. This story really could have done with a bit of drama. It was too subdued and matter of fact to really make the reader care. Yes, I was going to read to the end where I would find out who the murderer was, but I didn’t really care who it was. Perhaps this is the nature of trying to write a sequel: If you don’t like what you read, it doesn’t matter because it isn’t the real story anyway. I do, however, think she was spot on with her language. Death at Pemberley is split into six books, for example, which are called; ‘The Day Before the Ball’, ‘The Body in the Woodland’, ‘Police at Pemberley’, ‘The Inquest’, ‘The Trial’ and ‘Gracechurch Street’. P. D. James’ attention to detail made the atmosphere; I liked the parts of the story involving the servants of the house and the day-to-day running of it. The historical details dropped in were interesting… What is almond soup? I also enjoyed reading about early forensic science and post-mortem attempts – seems rather difficult to get your man without CSI style science!
Reading Death Comes to Pemberley as a sequel to Austen’s works, two things made me happy, and one thing was wrong. Firstly I chuckled at Anne Elliot’s cameo. Secondly I thought James was really good at writing Mr. Darcy. She managed to flesh out his back story but maintained the mysterious distance he kept during Pride and Prejudice. So that just leaves my massive MASSIVE problem with Elizabeth. What happened to her spark and independence? Why was it likely she’d become a simpering housewife? And whilst she was ‘good’ in Pride and Prejudice I’m not sure she was so blandly good. I’ve always thought my reasons for liking Elizabeth Bennet were somewhat enigmatic: she must be even more difficult to write.
November 27th until Christmas Eve is Advent with Austen. And indeed, Advent in general.
I’m planning to read as much of this list as possible, although what I don’t manage I’m sure I’ll get to at some point:
Persuasion, Jane Austen
Sometimes over my morning coffee, I want to read a happy ending. I love Persuasion because it isn’t as formulaic as you’d expect. The novel is all about two people coming back to love again after being separated, so there is sadness and regret as well as the love story. I like Captain Wentworth because despite being the typically proud Austen man he is constantly devoted to Anne. So he still makes the heart flutter.
Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn, that season of particular and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness, that season which has drawn from every poet, worthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.
Jane Austen, Persuasion
Charlotte Reads Classics 